


Always

by greeneyesandgoldenlashes



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 09:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9378191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greeneyesandgoldenlashes/pseuds/greeneyesandgoldenlashes
Summary: Lizzie has not yet forgiven Red for her father's death. Their attempt at reconciliation is thwarted by a returned enemy. One shot. Major character death.





	

Wrecking havoc on her life was Red’s forte. Granted, the pain it wrought was truly unintentional but necessary for him to show her the way; the way through the mess and chaos. No matter how much she begged and pleaded for a snippet of the truth, he must not cave. He knew it was better for her to wait to find out the truth…oh how she resented him for it. The hurt and anger swam in her eyes, knowing she was still left in the dark, like she was five years old again and being told to not worry, as if she wouldn’t be able to handle it. He knew this, but he would wait. She would come to understand part of why he did this. They still had time.  
____________________________________________________________________

She hadn’t spoken to him in nearly two weeks. Her father’s death had been dreadful enough, only to top it off by discovering that the one person she felt a glimmer of comfort with in her mourning was the one responsible. She was utterly furious with Red. She couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him, so full of rage was she that she didn’t know how she would react if she saw him. Judging by her past experiences, probably not well at all. She needed time away from him. Her current strategy was to ignore him and his phone calls completely. For now, it seemed to be working. Red had backed off and left her alone. She still noticed the (smaller) surveillance team, but she knew that Red wouldn’t have stopped that. 

After two weeks, Red was getting fidgety and slightly nervous. Things had been quiet on the Tom and Berlin fronts, which worried him. Lizzie had mentioned nothing more than the usual disgust she felt for her husband, so all seemed well enough. But Red needed her back. Red wanted her back by his side, figuring this puzzle out together. She hadn’t responded to any of his calls and he let her go. He gave her this time to think and rage it out. But she would come back out of sheer restlessness, or by force from the FBI. He preferred it to be the former, but was given the latter. 

Lizzie hung up her phone tiredly. She knew this would happen, she’d have to face him again sometime. Truth be told, she was beginning to tire of being so angry with him; she felt worn out. So she agreed with Director Cooper’s request and waited for the call. 

“Lizzie! I’m so glad you picked up sweetheart, it’s been much too long since I heard from you… it’s been dreadful without you.” 

Lizzie sighed quietly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Cooper says you have something for me. Which is surprising, seeing as you never go through him first.” 

“You weren’t talking to me, and as much as I dislike that, you needed the time,” he said, ‘but I do hope you’re slightly more open to it now?” The hope in his voice softened her face. 

“What do you suggest?” 

“How about lunch, in two hours at my hotel? Dembe can pick you up if you’d like?” 

“No, I’ll drive myself and meet you there.” Her voice lacked its usual lilt.

“Suit yourself sweetheart, I’ll see you soon.” 

She didn’t reply and hung up the phone. 

Red wasn’t entirely disheartened by her lack of enthusiasm; he was secretly overjoyed that she had agreed to join him. One step at a time, he told himself. 

_____________________________________________________________________

Liz had just about got herself ready to go and meet Red when she heard a series of loud shouts from the street outside. She walked to the window and peered out. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary she turned around to get her bag when suddenly a fist collided into her jaw, knocking her down. The wind had been taken out of her and she struggled to get up on her feet when two hands yanked her up by the arms. A large hand covered her mouth and a low voice spoke in her ear.

“Please don’t struggle. I hate it when you struggle; it wastes far too much energy. You don’t really want to know what will happen if you continue.” He was speaking slowly, his voice like honey as it dripped down her spine. She was filled with terror and despair as recognition set in. That voice- it couldn’t possibly be… 

The man continued. “Now… I’m going to call Reddington and tell him that I have you. Obviously I want him, but I figure… what better way to get to him than through you? Vulnerabilities are to be exploited and you are his.” 

Liz shivered as he spoke right in her ear; having him so close to her sent her senses into overdrive; the hairs at the back of her neck stood to attention, every nerve alight. She could feel her heartbeat thundering in her ears, the erratic beat settling in her stomach. Her eyes scanned the room for any possible weapon to use against her attacker but realised it was no use. She was trapped. He loosened his grip slightly and dialled a number on his phone. She could hear the dial tone and began to think. She couldn’t just stand there trapped, while she still had some fight in her. She had to get out. Just as he began to speak she pumped her elbows straight back, striking him in the abdomen. As he keeled over, she wrenched herself out of his arms and dashed for the door. 

She skidded round the wall towards the door but she never reached the handle as the man lunged at her from behind, grasping her hair and yanking her down hard onto the floor. He heaved her up and held her tightly against him again, panting from the sudden exertion. “You struggled. That’s such a shame,” he snarled at her. Liz whimpered as he held the phone up against his ear. Eventually she heard the voicemail message. Her assailant spoke clearly, telling both men at the tother end that he had something precious of theirs. He put the phone next to her ear, prompting her to speak into the phone. Liz shook her head vigorously, wide eyed with fear, until the man punched her in the stomach, kicking her to her knees causing her to cry out in pain. Squatting down, he prompted her to speak again, placing the phone near her mouth. “C’mon sweetheart…” he cooed in her ear. She glared at the man and heaved a breath and spoke into the phone. Shortly afterwards, she was shoved into a car and driven away from her home. 

 

Red considered himself a patient man. He was more than patient when it came to Lizzie, but this waiting game was becoming frustrating. He had been sitting in the restaurant for well over forty five minutes, with no word from her. He finally assumed she was still pissed at him, and decided she didn’t want to meet him. He sighed and checked his watch a final time before moving to stand and leave the table. He noticed Dembe approaching him, having been sitting at another table watching from afar. He looked sad for his friend, but said nothing as they both walked to the car and returned home. 

It was not until a couple of hours later, when Dembe retrieved Red’s phone from his thrown aside jacket that Red knew something was seriously wrong.  
“Raymond, you must hear this.” Dembe produced his phone and played the message that was waiting. Red’s face went blank, a cold horror spread across his features as he listened. He could hear a man’s voice, followed by crashes and panicked shouts. He waited until the man returned to the phone. And then he heard her.  
“Red…” Her voice was strained; he could sense she was in immense pain. Then the line went dead. 

Once the message was over, he grabbed his jacket and phone, beckoning Dembe to get the car. Red knew the only way to find her was to try and trace the number. He had let his team know what had happened and they were ready to go with the trace. As he sat in the back of his car, he called the number from the message. 

A male voice answered, in a loud voice, which reeked of arrogance and disgust, “Raymond Reddington! You finally grace us with your ‘presence’. Say ‘hello’, Lizzie” he taunted, as he stood by her side. The man began to saunter around the room, his eyes fixed on his charge. She just glared at him, anger and pain both written all over her face. “Obviously by now you realise that Lizzie is gone,” he continued. ‘As she must suspect, she is special to you. But I fear she does not know how special. Why haven’t you told her Reddington? Did she get too close to the truth of wha-”

Red cut him off, growling into the phone “Where are you? Tell me where you are and I’ll come to you.” 

He would do anything to ensure her safety. Liz could hear the conversation on loudspeaker and knew she had to get out of there quickly. She didn’t want to stay here with her attacker and so she cried out, desperately shouting over the top of the man “Red! If you can hear me…Pimento cheese sandwiches!” A loud slap echoed down the line followed by a loud cry, causing Red to wince in pain. 

The line went dead. 

Red didn’t move. He couldn’t move, he felt so heavy. He let the phone drop onto the seat beside him. His entire body felt like lead, quickly sinking to the bottom of the sea. The world around him was moving in slow motion, all of it a blur. Lizzie…His Lizzie had been taken. But her clue had given him her location. He would find her.  
____________________________________________________________________

Red launched himself from the car before Dembe had even stopped moving. Forgetting to shut the door, Red practically sprinted towards the well-recognised building complex he and Lizzie had occupied months earlier in their search for Tom’s organisation, leaving Dembe at the car to call in medical reinforcements. He hoped to God he didn’t need them. His heart pounded in his chest as he approached the door and quickly entered. 

From memory, the complex was actually a small warehouse with a number of smaller rooms that once served as offices for the workers, but were now mainly privately leased out or owned for storage purposes. A narrow cinder block passageway that led from the main warehouse floor connected these smaller rooms, forming a solid and secure barrier from the outside world. 

Red found himself at one end of a large industrial floor space, and started striding towards the passageway, on the far side of the room. He was stopped short as a piercing cry rang through the air. He stopped breathing as the echo tore at his heart. He recognised that voice.  
Lizzie. 

He broke into a jog as another cry erupted around him, this time the sound continued, bouncing off the walls. He could feel the pain she was experiencing, the guttural roar of despair in her cries only spurring him on.  
“I’m coming sweetheart, I’m coming. I’m nearly there, please hold on,” he chanted to himself as he approached the passageway. He slowed himself to a steady march as he followed the sound of raised voices.  
As he made his way to the end of the hallway, the voices ceased… only to be replaced by an eerie silence. Two shots swiftly followed, slicing through the silence and bouncing off the cinder block walls. Red was frozen where he stood. He dared not breathe for fear of drawing attention to himself. However, the loud clatter of a gun dropping to the floor caused him to snap. He lunged at the door, smashing into the wood with all his might. He knew she was in there. He must get to her! He could hear a male voice again, low and taunting, that was undoubtedly him. Rage surged through Red’s veins. He was shouting now, shouting for her to answer, his fists and shoulders battered and bruised from trying to get past the solid door. 

In a moment of silence, Red rested his head on the door, palms up as he breathed deeply in an attempt to calm his racing heart. The movement of furniture from inside the room drew Red out of his daze. He stood straight and reached inside his coat pocket. Drawing out a small revolver, he loaded it up, stood back and shot through the lock.  
As soon as the door was unlocked, Red kicked it down and burst into the room. Just as he entered, another shot was fired. This time the shot did not come from Red, but from Lizzie’s captor. 

Tom. 

Red faced him, his face and voice full of fury. He could barely keep himself steady; the urge to punch his nose through his skull into his brain was almost too much to control. Tom began to walk towards her but never made it. The instant he had turned to Lizzie was the moment he died. Two gunshots rang out, both hitting Tom square in the head. A third shot was fired into the chest for good measure. 

A strangled gasping cry from one side of the room drew his attention. The sight in front of him quickly destroyed any satisfaction he had from Tom’s demise. His face drained of any distinguishable colour as he took in her appearance. She was tied up against the wall, her arms and legs spread wide. Zip ties bound her ankles and wrists, keeping her tight against the board. For extra measure, Tom had tied her waist and knees down with duct tape, restricting any movement she might have made.

Her wrists were raw and ragged from the ties digging into her skin, and her hands were a worrying shade of blue from the lack of circulation. Her head was low against her chest and Red could see that she was exerting enormous amounts of energy trying to breathe. Her once lovely full and bright hair now hung low and limp, covering her face. She was wearing only her underwear and bra, showing off the enormous black and yellow bruises that speckled the skin of her arms and torso. 

Red hurriedly dropped his gun onto the floor and rushed over to her. 

“Lizzie…” he whispered, his hand coming up to cup her chin. She slowly raised her head and looked at him. His breath caught in his throat as he saw her face – one eye was swollen shut, bruises and cuts peppered her cheeks and forehead, her lips were raw and cracked.  
“I’m so desperately sorry sweetheart. I should have been here sooner.” He couldn’t raise his voice above a whisper; he was too overcome with pain.  
He quickly began to undo her restraints, trying to quell the slowly surging panic he felt.  
“Red… please…” she panted, before her head fell forward again, unable to support itself.  
Panic swelled inside Red as he desperately untied her from the wall, gathering her into his arms and sinking to the floor against the wall. 

As he cradled her in his arms, he saw blood slowly seeping from her lower abdomen. He hurriedly removed his tie and vest and applied pressure to her wound, keeping her tucked against his chest He held her so gently, like he would a baby. Her cries soon disappeared as he whispered soothing words to calm her. He could feel her hands wrapped tightly in his shirt, with some of her fingers making their way underneath the now bloodstained fabric to rest against his skin.  
He gingerly lifted a hand to her cheek, his finger tracing along a large cut. His eyes filled with tears as he swept some fallen hair off her forehead before leaning down to lightly press his lips to the bruised skin.  
A deep sigh wracked his body as he smiled at her, linking his fingers with hers.  
“Just rest Lizzie. Everything will be fine, trust me sweetheart. You’re going to be fine.” He smiled at her again, all the while pressing his soaked tie and vest onto her wound just that little bit more firmly. 

“Don’t lie to me Red…you said… you would never lie to me,” Lizzie gasped out. “You and I both know… how this… is going to end. Tom was too much for me. I should have believed you sooner… I might have… been more prepared.” 

Red shook his head. “Sweetheart, no warnings could have prepared you for this… But I’m going to get you help, and you shall be fine.” They sat in silence for a few moments. Red opened his mouth to speak again but was silenced when he felt her fingers squeeze his hand tightly. She was cold and had started to shiver. 

“Just stay. Don’t leave me,” she whispered.  
Red’s throat constricted, a huge wrenching sob threatened to escape. He choked it back down loudly.  
“Of course not, sweetheart. I’ll be right here.” 

A trickle of blood began to flow from her mouth as she coughed slightly. Her breathing was become more laboured now, and Red could see the pain branded on her features. He stroked her hair again in an attempt to soothe any of her pain.  
Her small voice cut through the silence.  
“I want you to know Red… I don’t hate you. I need… I need you to know that.”  
He grasped her cold, smaller hands tighter in his large warm ones, hugging her to his chest.  
“I know Lizzie. I know…”  
He knew the tears would be unstoppable now and he let them flow freely down his cheeks. One thought kept racing through his mind over and over, “Please God… Don’t take her from me now.”  
He felt her shudder against him. She was so cold in his arms, even though she was cradled against his chest. He tucked her legs in closer to his body, conserving as much heat as he could.  
She spoke again,  
“Red… I’ll say hi to Sam for you,” she said as she attempted a small smile.  
Red huffed out a half laugh-half cry at her words, as he smiled back at her.  
She turned her head slightly into his chest as he watched the spark fade from her glorious blue eyes. 

He watched her for a moment, desperately trying to comprehend what had just happened, but with no success. He just broke apart. 

With his head bowed, he screamed her name over and over again, clinging her lifeless body against his. He roared with grief, his sobs echoing around the room. Nothing could console him; his screams were filled with such anguish and such an aching sadness at his loss.  
He cradled her against him as he bent his head against her neck and wept. 

Eventually Red ran out of tears. He raised his head and just watched her. She looked like she was sleeping; she appeared so peaceful. He ran the back of his finger down her bruised cheek and sighed deeply. He leaned down to her ear and whispered,  
“I’m so sorry my sweetheart.” That was all he could say. Nothing else would come out. He moved to her lips, and placed there the softest of kisses. He had never been able to do that with her while she was alive, and he would regret that until the day he died. 

As he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, he began to quietly hum a song. A song that she had loved and drawn comfort from since she was a little girl. He had known this of course, and had built her a music box many months ago with that melody in mind, knowing that she would be comforted and feel safe. He hoped it would do the same for her now, wherever she was. He would do that for her. 

Always.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. 
> 
> please please don't hate me for doing that.


End file.
